Where To Go From Here
by Steel
Summary: A little longer story this time *Complete*
1. Default Chapter

Okey Dokey, Here we go.

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

**Where To Go From Here**

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Special Agent Clarice Starling had finally decided to give it up.

Clarice had been reinstated after the incident at Krendler's lake house. She was found innocent of any wrong doing, with the exception of disobeying orders. When Starling's superiors discovered that the postcard that was found in her office, was in fact a forgery, and even though they couldn't prove it, they highly suspected Krendler of being involved, they figured she had been through enough.

Four months later, Agent Starling was on a stake out, another drug bust. Once again assisting local law enforcement, she wondered to herself if these guys were allowed to give out parking tickets by themselves. Just as the principles were about to make their deal, one of them caught a glimpse of the sniper on the roof across the street. "Same shit different day" she said while getting out of the van.

"Lets roll guys, we've been made," she announced through the police radio.

As the Officers approached, it appeared as if the suspects were just going to surrender.

All stood with their hands raised high in the air. Not moving an inch.

There were five of them, or so she thought, standing in front of a Ford Explorer. As they moved in to make the arrest, someone fired a shot from inside the vehicle.

That's when disaster struck.

The suspects took off in every direction. Several rounds had already been delivered into the Explorer. Clarice had hit the ground after hearing the first shot. By the time she decided she would be safer heading for cover, she discovered she couldn't get off the ground. As she looked for the source of the trouble, she saw that she had been shot in the left thigh. 'Not too bad,' she thought. Until she realized the hole in the front of her leg was just the entrance wound. The bullet had gone clean through her thigh and left a rather large exit wound in the back of her leg, while also shredding her femur in the process.

During the shooting, one of the Officers had made his way to her, dragging her safely back to the van. "Thanks for saving my butt," she said while grimacing in pain.

"Your gonna be o.k. The medics are on the way. They'll fix you up," he said nervously.

Starling, noticing the young man's jitters and asked, "What's your name Officer?"

"Daniel, Daniel Barton, he replied." "Well it's nice to meet you Daniel.

I'm Clarice." "I know who you are. You're that F.B.I. Agent that has a thing for that

Lecter guy," he remarked sarcastically.

Without missing a beat Clarice said, "Dr. Lecter," as she punched him in the face.

All total for the day, three dead bad-guys, two wounded good-guys, Clarice (gunshot to the leg), Officer Barton (broken nose), one totaled Ford Explorer, which now resembled Swiss cheese and two hundred pounds of cocaine.

Not a bad haul, all things considered.

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Starling sat uncomfortably in her hospital bed recovering from the surgery that put her leg back together. It took two titanium rods, seven pins and a cast that she would have to wear for three months.

That's when she decided enough is enough.

The next day, Agent Pearsall came to see how Clarice was doing. He knocked lightly on her open door and said quietly, "Starling." She was reading the paper as he entered the room. "Come in Mr. Pearsall. I'm glad to see you, we need to talk."

"How you doing Starling," he asked. "Leg hurts like hell, but at least I still have one," she replied. "The Doc says if I'm a good girl I can go home in a couple of days."

"That's good news, I'm so glad you're going to be all right.

So Starling, you said you wanted to talk to me? What's on your mind?"

She thought for a minute before answering him. "Well, Sir, I guess there's no easy way to put this." She took a deep breath and continued, "I 'm leaving Bureau. I would like it if you would except this as my verbal resignation. I plan on writing a formal letter, I just thought you should be aware of my intentions."

"Why, Starling? I know you've had a rough time lately, but everything seemed to finally be working itself out." He actually sounded disappointed.

"I'm sorry Sir. I've just had enough. There has got to be more to life. I just want to see if I can find it. I hope you understand."

"I can't say that I completely understand, but God knows you deserve a break, Starling.

You sure I can't talk you into, let's say, a six month leave?" he said hopefully.

"I'm sorry Sir, my minds made up," she answered.

"Alright Starling, if that's what you want I'll start the paperwork tomorrow," he said as he headed for the door. "Thank you sir. I really appreciate this."

He nodded to her as he left. Once he was gone, Clarice felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest.

That didn't last long.

A few minutes after Pearsall's departure, a nurse came in carrying a dozen red roses. "Ms. Starling, these just came for you. Special delivery too," the nurse said excitedly.

"They're beautiful. Who are they from?" Clarice asked.

The nurse set the flowers down on the bedside table and pulled the small card from the center of the display, handing it to Clarice. As she opened the card her eyes widened. The nurse asked, "Are you o.k. Ms. Starling? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Snapping out of her trance she said, "Ah, yeah, I'm fine. Just someone I didn't expect to hear from, that's all." "Alright then, you ring if you need anything," the nurse said as she was leaving.

Clarice just stared at the flowers for a long while. Then to the card, which simply read,

H

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As I said before, all of you have given me the courage to continue, for better or worse.

I hope it's not for worse!


	2. It's Good To Be Home

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

**Chapter 2 It's Good To Be Home**

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The next two days were spent watching an endless supply of soap operas and infomercials, occasionally, a decent movie. Last night she got lucky. There was an Anthony Hopkins marathon on cable, her favorite Actor. Once she thought that he reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

True to his word, on the second day the Doctor released Starling from the Hospital. Ardelia came to take her home. Once they got to Clarice's house Ardelia said, "Girl, I don't know why you won't let me take you home with me. Mike and the kids would love to see you." "Thanks Delia, but I just want to be at home and relax, you know, just be lazy for awhile." Clarice explained. "O.k. then, but if you need anything you better call me first!" Ardelia demanded. Clarice agreed as they hugged and said there

good-byes.

Once alone, Clarice made her way to the kitchen, she was getting rather good with her crutches. After all that Hospital food she was in dire need of some junk food. Ardelia had stocked her house with enough food to feed an army for at least a month. Clarice laughed out loud saying, "Damn, Delia, guess you wanted to make sure I wouldn't starve." So she made herself a sandwich and grabbed a coke.

Just as she placed the food down on the kitchen table, she noticed her message light blinking on her answering machine. She hobbled over and hit the play button before returning to the table to eat her lunch.

The first message was Ardelia telling her she better call every couple of days to let her know how she was doing. "Yes Mother." Clarice said as she giggled.

The second message was Agent Pearsall, who said her paperwork had gone through with no problems, and she looked to have quite a monthly pension coming. He said he would call her next week with the details, but that it wasn't too late to change her mind, if she wanted to come back. "Yeah right," she said.

The third message stopped her in mid chew.

Good afternoon, Former Special Agent Starling. I do hope your feeling better.

Did you like the flowers? Unfortunately I was unable to deliver them in person.

My sincerest wishes for a speedy recovery. Bye

Damn him anyway, she thought. How the hell does he find all this stuff out?

If the Bureau had 'his' connections, crime would be extinct.

The thought made her laugh.

Clarice had been comfortable with his voice in her head for some time now, so after the initial shock of the flowers and the message had worn off, she decided that it was no big deal. He was just having some fun, and why not, she was too. For the first time, it really didn't matter to her that he was on the ten most wanted list.

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Three months later, the cast finally came off. All Clarice did for the first ten minutes was scratch. She set up her appointments for her physical therapy then decided she needed a Big Mac.

Returning home after her feast, Clarice went into the kitchen to clean up the four days worth of dishes in the sink, punching the play button on her answering machine on the way. She wondered if the Good Doctor had left her another message. He had done so seven times over the past three months. Nothing in particular. She just figured he must be pretty bored and didn't have anyone else to play with.

This time, however, it was Agent Pearsall asking her to call him, that it was important.

Clarice put the dishes on hold, that didn't take a lot of prodding, and started for the phone when the doorbell rang. She changed direction again and headed for the door.

Still using her crutches, she was getting quite a workout.

To her surprise it was Agent Pearsall she found on the other side of the door.

"Hi Starling, can I come in?" "Sure, come on in. What's up?" she asked.

Pearsall put his briefcase down on the coffee table and opened it. "We got a bad one Starling. I was hoping you would take a look at what we have so far. Before you start, I know your retired, but I hoped you would just take a look and tell me what you think."

She thought about it for a few minutes. What could it hurt, she thought, just a quick look, Dr. Lecter wasn't the only one getting bored. "O.k. Mr. Pearsall, I'll take a look.

What's the situation?" He handed her a file from his briefcase. She opened it to see a photo of a dead young woman. She had an ice pick sticking out of her right temple. There didn't appear to be any further damage, like that wasn't enough.

As she looked through the file, there were two more victims. A woman, forty-two and a man, thirty. All had been killed in the same manner, an ice pick protruding from the right temple. Clarice noticed the ice picks were all identical. Proceeding further in the file, she found the killer had inscribed a word on each of the handles.

They read in order of discovery: F I R S T, S E C O N D and finally T H I R D.

Clarice looked over the file for an hour, but couldn't find anything that stuck out. There was no pattern, no apparent motive, and no robbery, nothing that made any sense at all. She looked at Pearsall and said, "You're right, this is a bad one. Has anyone got a theory?"

Pearsall was looking at the photos again and said, "No, no one has the faintest idea where to start. We checked out the ice picks. They're sold at any Target or Wal-Mart, impossible to trace unless they were bought in large quantities and these were not. Even the bodies were found in very different types of locations. One in a car at a convenience store. One in an alley and the other in an elevator in the parking garage at the mall."

Clarice sat back on the couch and said, "You definitely have you hands full with this one."

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Thank you all for hanging in there with me. I really appreciate the reviews.


	3. Back to Work

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

**Chapter 3 Back To Work**

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Phillip Irwin Cole sat at his large oak desk starring at the phone, waiting. Finally, as if willing it to do so, the phone rang. He lifted the receiver, but did not speak right away.

"Dr. Cole, are you there?" The voice on the other end asked.

"Yes Mary, I'm here, what is it?"

"They've found another one Dr. Cole and the Chief wants you at the scene ASAP."

She gave him the address.

"Thank you Mary, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Smiling as he hung the phone up, he grabbed the keys to his truck and headed out the door.

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Pearsall and Starling were still discussing the non-facts of the case when Pearsall's cell phone rang.

Clarice watched the features on his face sag as he ended the call with "I be right there." She looked at him as he replaced his cell back into his coat pocket and said, " They found another one, didn't they?"

"Yes, I have to go. You wouldn't by any chance……" She immediately cut him off and said, "Yes I would."

Pearsall smiled at her saying, "Good, lets go."

"So where we going?" She asked. "A restaurant not to far from here. An employee on her way home found the body in the parking lot next to her car.

As they pulled into the parking lot, Starling noticed the press everywhere. "Vultures," she said as she got out of the car. They walked over to where the body was lying. The victim was male, approximately twenty-two years old, wearing baggy clothing, and there was a skateboard on the ground next to him. The ice pick, standing at attention, from the right side of his temple, with the word: F O U R T H, neatly carved into the handle.

Pearsall's words finally shook Starling from the vision on the ground. "Starling I want you to meet someone." She looked up to see an older man standing along side Pearsall.

"This is the Chief Medical Examiner Albert Young. Al this is Clarice Starling."

"Nice to meet you Miss Starling. I've heard a lot about you." He smiled as he reached for her his hand. "Thank you Dr. Young, but you can't believe everything you hear," she replied, shaking his hand and returning his smile with a half smirk.

Pearsall interrupted asking, "Have you found anything new?"

"Not yet, my associate is winding things up now. We will be moving him to the office for a more intense search there." Just as Dr. Young had finished speaking, his associate came into view, walking toward the group. "We're all ready to go Al, we just need to get him in the van, and……..Who do we have here?" He said, starring at Clarice.

"Oh, my apologies Phil, this is Clarice Starling and you already know Agent Pearsall."

"Yes, Hello Agent Pearsall," he said as his gaze never left Clarice. Still starring at her he said, "Very nice to meet you Clarice Starling. I am Phillip Cole. As he took her hand into his, she felt a cold shiver run from the base of her neck down both legs. "Hi," was all she could force from her lips.

He was a tall, well-built man of about forty. Shoulder length Dark hair, mustache and goatee, both neatly manicured. But she couldn't get past the eyes. They were black as coal.

To uncomfortable to continue this starring contest any longer, she jerked her hand away from his, turning to Pearsall saying, "Are we finished here?"

"Yes, the other Agents can do the follow-up. Come on. I'll take you home."

As they were leaving, Clarice turned to see Dr. Cole getting into a large dark blue

pick-up. She felt another shiver as she read his license plate: PIC ME.

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There was silence during the drive home. Clarice had thought that by seeing one of the victims in person, she might receive some great insight to the murders. All she was left with was an odd feeling she couldn't determine.

Deciding she didn't want to go home, she asked Pearsall to drop her off at Ardelia's House. She just felt in need of a friendly face.

As Pearsall stopped in front of her friend's home he said, "I'm sorry if I caused you any anxiety tonight Starling. I just don't know what else to do. This guy doesn't look like he plans on stopping anytime soon, and if we don't get some leads pretty soon……."

"It's o.k. Mr. Pearsall, that Examiner guy just creeped me out, is all. I'm fine."

She tried to sound convincing. Pearsall bought it, as she knew he would.

Even though he was polite and he really did need some help with the case, she still felt like a pawn in the Bureau's chess game with the bad-guys and she wasn't about to let her guard down again.

"I'll call you later this week, Starling."

"Thank you Mr. Pearsall, Goodnight," she said as she shut the door to his car.


	4. Pagers, Cell Phones and Serial Killers

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

**Chapter 4 Pagers, Cell Phones and Serial Killers**

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The next day, Ardelia dropped Clarice off at her house. All she wanted to do was take a bath. So that's what she did. After relaxing for an unknown amount of time, she made her way to the couch. She watched television for awhile but the news coverage of the murders became too much.

'Retired Special Agent Clarice Starling, of Hannibal Lecter fame is assisting the F.B.I. in attempts to catch the Ice Pick killer.'

"Are they ever gonna give up on this shit!" she screamed at the t.v. before turning it off.

Speaking of the Good Doctor, she wondered with all this mess going on, how long it would take him to leave another message. She wasn't sure she wanted to here it, knowing what he would say about her getting sucked into helping the Bureau.

Curious, she grabbed a crutch and headed toward the answering machine in the kitchen.

Sure enough she had a message. She paused a moment, then hit the play button quickly as if it would bite her. She wasn't disappointed as she listened to the message.

Good morning, Clarice, or should I say, Special Agent Starling.

She could here the tease in his voice.

I don't have much time, as you machine only allows the briefest of messages.

I want you to call this number I will give you. It is a recorded message. When it is finished, you may record a message of your own, if you wish. I will be alerted to any message you leave and will respond accordingly. You will have five minutes of record time. Hope to hear from you soon. Bye

Clarice wrote the number down, wondering if he trusted her not to give it to the Bureau.

She grabbed her cordless phone, the number and a coke and went back to the living room.

Stretched out on the couch, she debated whether or not to call the number. Did she really want to put herself through this? "Yep, I sure do." she said as she began dialing the number. The phone rang only once, and then she heard a click and then, his voice:

Thank you for taking me up on my offer, Clarice. I trust you did not reveal this number to your, so called comrades, to do so would be quite pointless I assure you.

Now then, down to business. I've been following the lack of progress the Bureau has been making on their latest embarrassment. Is this why they came to you, little Starling?

I can't blame them, although the reason you accepted causes me a great deal of curiosity.

It appeared to all concerned you had finally received the message loud and clear and reclaimed your life, so tell me Clarice, what changed your mind, hmm? Did you miss it, the deceit, the backstabbing, the exhilaration, or did you just get bored?

I do feel obligated to warn you, Clarice, you are in very dangerous territory. This killer, unlike myself, has no purpose. How do I know, you are asking yourself, let's just call it an educated guess. So if you choose to continue down this deserted path, be aware that this game has no rules for the one you seek.

That was the end of the message. A hundred different things went through her mind at that moment. Then she heard three beeps. Oh shit, it was her turn. What was she gonna say? She knew she had to say something. Finally she started:

Hello, Dr. Lecter, first I want to thank you for the flowers, they were lovely.

(that was lame, she thought)

To answer you question, yes, I was bored, it's as simple as that.

She told him of everything that had transpired over the last few days, explaining everything in the case file and her feelings at the latest homicide.

During this one sided conversation, she had decided to tell Mr. Pearsall, she couldn't help him with the case any longer. I was just stressing her out and it was no longer her job or her problem.

When she had said everything she needed too, it took six phone calls to get it all in, she figured Dr. Lecter would just think she was a nut, to have put herself back in the middle once again, but it felt great to get it off her chest.

Clarice put the phone down on the coffee table and rested her head on the arm of the couch. She would tell Mr. Pearsall of her decision tomorrow.

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Hannibal Lecter was enjoying his morning espresso, at his favorite coffee bar, just outside of Paris, when the pager he had acquired, for the sole purpose of his communication with Clarice, went off.

He smiled as the small device vibrated in his hand. Taking his cell phone from his jacket, he dialed the number, eager to know what his little bird had to say.

He listened intently to her disclosure, determining that she had come to a decision to remove herself from any further involvement with the case. She hadn't said it out right, but her voice told him all he needed to know.

Once again he smiled and then punched in the access code so that he could record another message. Former Special Agent Starling had one more decision to make.

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Thanks C


	5. Visitors

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

**Chapter 5 Visitors**

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Clarice awoke, stiff from her unplanned, seven hour nap on the couch. She hadn't realized how tired she was. She got up and stretched for awhile before heading off to the kitchen to make some coffee. She decided on a quick shower, to help shake loose some of the cobwebs, while the coffee was brewing. On her way through the living room, she looked at the phone, wondering if Dr. Lecter had received her message. She picked up the phone and hit redial.

One ring, a click:

Hello Clarice, I'm pleased to hear that you have come to a decision about the case. I do believe you have chosen the correct path.

Forgive me for coming straight to the point here, but I find little need to draw this out any further. You will be receiving something, shortly. What you do with it, is entirely your choice. Know this Clarice, whatever your decision should be, it will be just that,

YOUR decision. There is no need for you to respond to this message.

Be well, Clarice. Bye

"Why can't you ever just come out and say what's on you mind, Doctor? To use one of your words, This beating around the bush stuff is getting very, tedious," she said to the phone as she set it back down on the table. Shoving his words to the back of her mind, as best she could, she continued to the shower.

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A couple weeks had passed and Clarice hadn't received anything from Dr. Lecter.

Thankfully, there hadn't been anymore murders.

Clarice had already told Pearsall, that she was done with case. He didn't seem to be to concerned as he thanked her for her help and basically said, "See ya."

She went about her normal activities, attending all her physical therapy sessions. Her leg was feeling much better. She was off the crutches, but still had a cane, just in case.

As she was leaving the Hospital, after her latest session, when she heard someone call her name. She turned to see who had summoned her, only to feel that cold shiver return as she did so.

"Hi Clarice, nice to see you again."

Shit, it's the creepy examiner guy. I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing HIM again, she thought.

"Yeah, umm, Dr. Cole, isn't it? Hi, I'm really in a hurry. I was just on my way to meet someone for lunch," she said as she started toward the door again.

Following her he asked, "How about dinner then?"

That thought killed what was left of her appetite. Thinking up a response she finally answered, "No thank you Dr. Cole, I'm seeing someone at the moment, but thanks anyway. Gotta run, bye." She continued out the door, not waiting for his reply.

She wondered to herself if she had a 'weirdo' Dr. magnet stuck to her forehead. Not that she had ever considered Dr. Lecter a weirdo, but he was definitely not the norm either.

She laughed at that thought before getting into her car and starting for home.

Dr. Cole watched Starling, all the way to her car, noting the make, model and most importantly the license number on her vehicle.

"Soon Clarice, soon."

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Clarice arrived home, just after dark. She had done a little shopping and grabbed a bite to eat at the mall. She retrieved her bags and picked up the mail before entering her house.

Plopping down on the couch, she looked over the bills when she noticed a letter.

Immediately she knew it was from him. It was addressed to Miss Starling, a single stamp and no return address, duh.

So eager to reveal its contents, she didn't notice the lack of a postmark on the envelope.

Dr. Lecter watched her from just outside the living room window as Clarice opened the letter, amused by the way she tore it open. Quite pleased with her smile as she beheld his invitation.

In the envelope, Clarice found a single plane ticket. No note or explanation, although she didn't really need one. She was fully aware of what was being offered her.

She smiled as she noticed the ticket was for Paris, France.

The flight was scheduled to depart tomorrow morning at 9:00am.

Damn, he works fast, she though before remembering their ten year history.

In reality, he was the most patient man she had ever known, but even he, had his limits.

He watched her for a long while, before retreating to his car, not knowing, for sure if she would accept his invitation. She could be so difficult to read sometimes.

He entered his vehicle and was reaching for the ignition, when he noticed a rather large truck turn the corner, heading in his direction.

The driver had turned off the headlights, traveling a few more yards before pulling over to the curb. The truck had stopped four houses up from Starlings.

The Doctor decided to wait and see what the driver had planned before departing.

Two hours had gone by. The Doctor's suspicion, highly aroused now, he felt compelled to see this through. There was something familiar about this truck.

He closed his eyes, searching his memory when it finally came to him.

He had seen this truck during the news coverage of the last ice pick murder.

As he opened his eyes, the driver was getting out of the truck, closing the door gently, as not to make any noise.

Dr. Lecter watched the man slowly make his way toward Starling's home. His eyes hardened as the man turned into her driveway and disappeared around the side of the house.

He reached into his bag, which was sitting on the passenger seat, pulling out a small container, he poured some of the liquid onto a small cloth. Exiting his own vehicle in the same manner as the truck driver, he set off in search of his prey.

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Thank you, ALL of you. I am overwhelmed by your kindness. I didn't think this story was very good. I hope I do not disappoint you before it's over. One more chapter to go.


	6. Good Doctor, Bad Doctor

Final Chapter

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

**Chapter 6 Good Doctor, Bad Doctor**

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Dr. Cole was standing at the corner of the house where the side and backyard met. He couldn't make up his mind on how to proceed next. He knew he would have to get into the house but this wasn't his area of expertise. He settled for trying to pick the lock on the back door.

With his decision, made, he took one step toward the door when a voice from behind said, "Good evening." Cole spun around only to have a cloth stuck in his face by a very strong hand, the other grasping him tightly behind the neck.

Dr. Cole fought only a moment before the drug took effect.

As Cole passed out, Dr. Lecter allowed the body to drape over his shoulder. He then carried the unconscious man to the truck. It was a slight struggle getting the bigger man into the truck, bouncing Cole's head off the entrance to the passenger side a couple of times Dr. Lecter said, "That's gonna leave a mark."

His search of Dr. Cole reveled an ice pick, wrapped in a zip-lock bag in his jacket pocket with the word: F I F T H, carved into the handle. The anger that washed over Dr. Lecter at that instant was almost frightening, even to him. If he had not been here, he shuttered to think of what could have happened.

Regaining his composure, he shut the passenger door, walking around and getting in the driver's side of the truck. As he started the truck an idea came to him. He smiled wickedly as he drove off.

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Clarice woke up early. She had packed a suitcase last night in the event she still planned on excepting Dr. Lecter's invitation. She took a deep breath and looked at her suitcase.

"What else do you have to do Starling? Not a damn thing," she answered herself.

With that, she made sure everything was in order. She called Ardelia and told her she was taking a vacation so she wouldn't worry.

Grabbing her suitcase and the ticket, she got into her car and aimed it toward the airport.

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Once inside the airport, Clarice checked to make sure her flight was on time, it was.

She had about thirty minutes to kill, so she got a cup of coffee and sat down with a magazine, she picked up in the gift shop. As she looked over the new fall fashions for the year, her body tensed as someone put their hands on her shoulders. Before she could turn she heard,

"Good morning, Clarice."

She took a deep breath and smiled as her body once again relaxed. "Good morning Dr. Lecter, I should have known you would show up. He chuckled as he came around to face her, then taking a seat next to her. "Are you going somewhere?" He asked, innocently.

Looking at him with a smug expression she said, "Why yes, Doctor. A very nice looking gentleman has requested my presence in Paris. It would have been a shame to disappoint him, don't you think?"

"Quite a shame indeed." was his reply.

At that point, an announcement came over the PA. Their flight was now ready to board.

As they rose, Starling's cell phone rang.

Looking to the phone, "Great, it's Pearsall. I wonder what he wants?" She said, obviously agitated by the interruption.

"Better answer it. You never know, it might be good news," he said with a grin.

Looking at Dr. Lecter inquisitively she answered the call. "Starling."

"Starling it's Pearsall."

"Yes, Mr. Pearsall, I'm really busy so can we make this quick?"

"Starling, I'm glad your o.k. When I couldn't reach you at home. I got worried.

"Why would you be worried, Mr. Pearsall?"

Putting her question on hold he said, "The Ice Pick killer is dead."

"Dead, how, who?

"An Agent coming in this morning found him in his truck in the parking lot."

"Parking lot, what parking lot?"

"The lot here, at the office Starling."

"The F.B.I. parking lot?"

"Yes Starling, the F.B.I parking lot. It's Dr. Cole, Starling. The Ice Pick killer was Dr. Cole. He was sitting in the truck with an ice pick sticking out of his head, just like the victims. When we searched the truck, we found a piece of paper, stuck in between the seat with your address and the number 5 circled on it"

She stood dumbstruck, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. Remembering Cole asking her to dinner gave her that same shiver. I new there was a reason he creeped me out. I should have seen it sooner. Her thoughts were running wild in her head.

Finally she asked, "So who killed the killer?"

"We don't know Starling. The handle on the ice pick has been altered."

"Altered how," she asked.

"It was carved, just like the others, with the word: F I F T H, but that was neatly crossed out, and the word: L A S T, carved on the back."

Starling stared at Dr. Lecter, raising one eyebrow and whispered, "Last?"

The Doctor met her stare and winked.

With her focus still on Dr. Lecter, she grinned and slightly shaking her head, she thanked Pearsall for the call and turned off the cell, tossing it the trash can next to her seat.

"Last?" she said again. "It seemed appropriate," he responded. "So when were you going to tell me?" She inquired. "You know how much I do enjoy surprises," he said as he proffered his arm. "We should be going." She agreed, wrapping her arm around his.

After taking their seats on the plane, Clarice turned her head toward the Doctor, just taking in the sight of him. As he returned the favor she asked, "How did you know it was Cole?"

"Quite frankly, I didn't know, until he attempted to pay you a visit last night." He said as he carefully monitored her response, as she was still unaware of the events that had transpired the night before.

"That bastard was at my house?" She screamed, drawing some unwanted glances from the other passengers.

"Calm yourself Clarice, It all worked out for the best."

"But what if…." he interrupted her, "If what, Clarice?

"What if you hadn't of been there?"

"There's no doubt in my mind, Clarice, if I hadn't been there, the only difference it would have made to Dr. Cole is that he would have a gunshot wound instead of an ice pick inside his head," he said as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She took his hand, gently clasping it between both of hers and said, "Thank you, Dr. Lecter."

He raised both eyebrows and said, "Former Special Agent Starling?"

She got the hint, "Thank you, Hannibal."

"Your quite welcome, Clarice."

"So now what?" she asked.

"Now, I believe, it's time to get some long awaited fun out of life, wouldn't you agree?"

"Definitely," she said, smiling at the thoughts, that statement provoked.

She rested her head comfortably on his shoulder, still holding his hand she said, "Let me know when you want this back," giving his hand a slight squeeze.

He looked to their entwined hands before speaking,

"It's right where it should be Clarice, where it will always be, now and forever."

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First, thanks to Obiwan for explaining to me that a serial killer has to have three names,

or he's not a true serial killer. lol Second, I wish all of you could truly understand how much your reviews have meant to me. Let's just say, your all on my Christmas card list.

Thank you so very much!

Fondest Regards,

Steel


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